Solitude
by DoctorAsh42
Summary: A long time ago, a Time Lord stole a TARDIS and ran away. He set out to see the stars and right wrongs. He became the Doctor. But then a war came and the Doctor was left to die so that a warrior could take his place. But what place is there for him now that the war is over; ended by his own hand? Perhaps the answers can be found in a small human colony called Solitude...
1. Chapter 1

There was not a sound to be heard in the TARDIS, save for the low, gentle hum of the engines, indicating that the ship was sailing through the Time Vortex.

In the darkened console room, the time rotor rose and fell with its usual, steady motion. From beneath the console, there was a bright light – the main source of illumination in the whole ship.

The Doctor was lying beneath the console with a work lamp strapped to his head, fusing two cables together with his newly redesigned sonic screwdriver.

"There," he said as the seam between the cables was sealed. He crawled out from under the console and stood up. His back felt stiff – who knew how long he'd been down there? He stretched out and felt his joints crack under the effort.

He looked at his new sonic screwdriver and smiled. He'd given it a complete overhaul and updated it with a host of new settings and features.

"You're fantastic, you are," he said. "If there were a sonic screwdriver illustrated, you'd be the centrefold."

He tucked the screwdriver into his trouser pocket and looked around the dimly-lit console.

According to the TARDIS' internal chronometers, it had been three weeks since he'd regenerated. Three weeks since he'd last set foot outside of the TARDIS. Three weeks since he'd ended the Time War. Three weeks since he'd committed two counts of genocide.

Of course, time didn't mean much to a Time Lord and it meant even less sailing through the Vortex. As far as The Doctor was concerned, it could have been three minutes or three millennia.

He couldn't remember much about his regeneration – for some reason, parts of it were blurry, perhaps as a result of using the Moment, or as a result of some sort of post-regenerative disruption to his brain.

He could remember taking the Moment to a barn – a place that had been special to him as a child. He remembered feeling great resolve; knowing that he had no choice but to end the War. That's where things got blurry. He could remember Dalek ships swarming over Gallifrey and a great big explosion, wiping them all from existence – Dalek and Time Lord alike. Even if his memories were sketchy, he knew this for a fact because he could feel it in his hearts.

The next thing he knew, he was in the TARDIS, coming out of a regeneration and feeling an intense sense of guilt and anguish. It was so bad that he'd actually used the Zero Room for the first time in ages to aid in his recovery.

He shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. He frowned and walked over to a cable hanging from the ceiling and unscrewed it from a coupling.

One of the problems with destroying Gallifrey was that it meant that his ship was no longer being fed power from the Eye of Harmony – the controlled black hole that powered all Gallifreyan time ships.

Much of his time over the past three weeks had been spent jerry-rigging the TARDIS to work with an alternative fuel source – Artron energy from the Time Vortex itself. The rest of his time had been spent with other such important matters as redecorating the ship's interior and working on new screwdriver designs.

He connected the cable to another port and nodded, satisfied that this was a much better home for it.

He scratched at the growth on his chin. Well, he suspected that it had left the realm of growth and entered the early stages of a full-blown beard. After all, he'd yet to actually shave this new face. He hadn't been able to bring himself to even look in a mirror yet.

It was funny really. In the past, upon regenerating, one of the first things he'd always done was look at himself in a mirror and then change his clothes – a metaphorical shedding of the skin so as to find something more comfortable to his new body and personality. At most, it only ever took a day or two for him to understand what kind of man he had become.

Yet, here he was: three weeks in and still in the remains of his old clothes. The coat and scarf had gone, but the shirt and waistcoat remained. His hair and beard were both wild and unkempt. He still had no idea what kind of man he was.

He'd been at something of an impasse since regenerating. He felt a world of guilt and anguish over his actions in the Time War and half of him felt that he needed to be punished; to serve penance for his crimes. The other half longed for the new beginning that regeneration offered; to start afresh and move on, leaving all of those painful memories behind.

The only thing was, where could he move on to?

Once upon a time he'd given up his name and his life to run away from Gallifrey; to see the universe and right wrongs wherever he could. He had become the Doctor.

But then one day he'd been faced with a choice and so he gave up his right to be the Doctor; he let him die on Karn. He'd chosen to become a warrior and take up arms in a conflict that threatened to tear the very fabric of reality to pieces.

But now it was over. He'd ended the Time War and walked away as its sole survivor and with no more war to fight, where did that leave him?

He couldn't become the Doctor again, no matter how much he might want to. A new face didn't wipe his slate clean. He'd still committed atrocities in the War and no matter how much he tried to convince himself that that man wasn't him, he knew that it wasn't true.

So there he sat in his TARDIS, drifting endlessly through time, caught between a longing to forget and a need to remember.

It was the middle of the night when he heard the tell-tale sound of the TARDIS materialising. Well, at least in his mind it was the middle of the night.

He bolted through the corridors and sprang into the console room, just as the last wheezes of the materialisation faded away, before the TARDIS settled in with a slight thud.

"Oi! What's all this, then?" he yelled as he examined the controls. "I didn't initiate a landing."

The Doctor's plan had been to simply drift through all of eternity until such a time that he felt he'd earned the right to rejoin the universe, or until he died, whichever came first. Obviously, the TARDIS didn't agree with that plan.

He took the scanner in his hand and took a look at the world outside. There were great big trees and the distant sound of waves. It looked serene; peaceful.

The Doctor frowned and said, "Thanks, but no thanks."

He began working the controls so as to return to the Time Vortex when a faint voice began to ring out from the scanner's speakers.

"Help!" cried the voice. It was a girl.

The Doctor paused for a moment, but then shook his head and continued with the controls.

"Somebody please, help!" The voice was louder now and coming from inside his head. The TARDIS was broadcasting it through the telepathic circuits.

"Oh, that's dirty, that is," he said.

His hand hovered over the final control he needed to set in order to dematerialise the ship.

"Help!"

He groaned and then bolted out the doors at breakneck speed.

His eyes burned as he burst into the outside world. It had been so long since he'd emerged from the dim lights of the TARDIS. Actually, he realised, this was the first time that these eyes had seen sunlight at all. Maybe one of these days he'd invest in a pair of sunglasses.

After taking a moment to adjust, he honed in on the screaming and cut a path through the trees. As he ran, he started to hear the sound of crashing waves and it wasn't long before he'd emerged from the forest and he found himself atop a cliff face, the air thick with salt and wet with ocean spray.

He saw a section of the edge which had quite recently crumbled and he moved towards it cautiously.

He peered over the edge and saw a young humanoid girl hanging from a thick tree root that had burst through the side of the cliff.

"Help!" she yelled as another wave crashed beneath her and blanketed her dress with spray.

"Hold on!" he called, cupping his hands over his mouth so that she could hear him.

"Is there somebody there?" she called back. "Oh, please help me!"

"Don't worry, I'll have you out of there in a jiffy!"

He looked around, trying desperately to find a solution. He looked down and was struck by inspiration.

He unhooked his belt and slid it out from his trousers, then lowered himself to his stomach, very slowly, lowering his centre of gravity.

With great care and precision, he crawled to the edge of the cliff and unfurled the thick, leather belt, letting it hang down to just above the girl's head.

"It's alright, sweetheart, just grab the belt!"

Another wave pounded against the rock, striking much further up than the previous one. Salt stung the Doctor's eyes.

"It won't hold me," she yelled, "I'll fall!"

The Doctor shook his head. "Darling, this belt has been through the wars and back – literally! It's durable and made to last, that's why I wear it. Please, trust me!"

The girl still looked uncertain, but she looked down just as another monster wave crashed, this time hitting her feet and washing away one of her shoes. She shrieked and tucked her legs up as best that she could.

"OK!" she said, reluctantly.

She reached up and took hold of the belt with her left hand.

"That's good, that's fantastic, you're nearly there!"

She took three deep breaths and then she let go of the branch completely and grabbed onto the belt with both hands.

The Doctor felt the strain immediately and had to dig the toes of his boots into the ground so that he wouldn't slide. His arms and back screamed in agony.

_Penance_, he thought, _redemption_.

Gritting his teeth, he began shuffling backwards, hauling the girl up slowly but surely.

After what seemed like an eternity of his muscles threatening to burst, he saw the girl's head poking over the edge.

"Give me your hand!" he yelled through grit teeth.

She complied, reaching up above her head.

In one swift instant, he let go of the belt with one of his hands and grabbed her before she could drop. Then, in an awesome display of strength, he hauled her up onto the cliff, falling to his back as she landed face-first next to him.

"I'm gonna feel that in the morning," he groaned. Though, in all honesty, he was already feeling it.

He scrambled to his feet and then helped the girl up. She was trembling, but seemed otherwise alright. Upon closer inspection, he realised that she probably wasn't as young as he'd first thought. If she were human, or a close approximation thereof, then he'd probably put her at about twelve or thirteen years of age. In Earth terms anyway.

"You alright, sweetheart?" he asked.

She nodded, though she was clearly still in a state of shock.

He fished his sonic screwdriver out of his trouser pocket, crouched down and began scanning her. She followed the blue light warily, but otherwise didn't question him.

He finished the scan and examined the results.

"Ah, there you go, tip-top shape, just a bit of shock, which is understandable. Go home to your mum and dad and have yourself a bit of a lie down and you'll be right as rain in an hour or two."

"Thank-you," the girl said, nodding. "You saved my life." With that, she plunged into The Doctor and squeezed him in the tightest hug that he'd received in a long time.

It took him by surprise and at first he was stunned and unresponsive, but he quickly began to relish the warmth of the gesture and so hugged her back. He quickly realised just how long it had been since he'd enjoyed positive contact with another being and just how much he'd missed it, without even knowing.

"Hey, what are you doing with my daughter?"

The Doctor looked up and saw a tall man with broad shoulders and a short, neatly clipped beard running towards them. He gently broke away from the embrace and stood up.

"Look mate, I don't want any trouble," he said, holding his hands in a placating gesture.

"Keep your hands off of my daughter," barked the man as he scooped the girl up into his arms as if she weighed nothing.

"No, Dad, it's alright, he saved me!"

The girl's father looked confused. "What do you mean, child?"

She pointed at the part of the cliff that had crumbled away. "It was my fault, I was picking thistles and got too close to the edge; it gave way and I had to grab onto an old root to stop myself from falling. This stranger heard my screams and rescued me."

The man turned back to The Doctor with wide eyes. "Is this true?"

"Look," said The Doctor, "I was just passing through and heard the girl scream. I'm glad that she's OK now, so I'll be on my - "

He was cut short as the man grabbed hold of him in a bear-hug even stronger than the girl's, lifting him clear off the ground.

"Oh thank-you, Sir, thank-you and God bless you! I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost me little Dolly."

"Don't...erk...mention," groaned The Doctor as he struggled under the man's crushing arms.

"Oh, sorry, sorry," he said, putting The Doctor back down. "Please, come to the village, let us repay you. We don't have much, but we could give you a hearty meal and a bed for the night, if you've nowhere else to go."

The Doctor shook his head and said, "That's very kind of you, but I really must be going. Like I said, I'm just passing through."

Suddenly, he felt Dolly gripping onto his left arm, pulling at his sleeve. "Please, at least stay for dinner," she said. "We're having thistle stew and I'm helping Mum cook!"

The Doctor looked at the girl's father, who smiled and cocked his head. "You wouldn't want to insult our cook now, would you, Sir?"

The Doctor looked back down at Dolly, who was looking up at him with those imploring eyes of hers.

"Alright," he said, relenting, "but just dinner and then I really must be off."

"Yes!" bellowed Dolly.

Her father smiled and said, "Name's Jeremiah and you are?" He extended his hand.

"Just a stranger," said The Doctor as he shook Jeremiah's hand. It was rough and callused – a working man's hand.

"Man of mystery, are ya? Well, follow me Mr. Stranger," said Jeremiah as he turned back towards the woods.

"Come on!" squealed Dolly as she pulled The Doctor by the hand.

Centuries fighting the most abhorrent atrocities of the Time War and what finally broke his resolve? A little girl's pleading eyes.

"Oncoming Storm, indeed," muttered The Doctor as he tried to keep in step with Dolly.


	2. Chapter 2

The village was only about a half an hour's walk from the cliff, but the sun was already setting by the time they got there. Wherever they were, it definitely wasn't Earth.

The village itself was a simple affair – very rustic and pre-industrial looking. The same could be said for the people, who all wore simple garments of wool and linen. It almost looked like an Amish township, save for a few sparse trappings of technology, like electric lights. Then, of course, there was the colony seed ship parked just outside of the village.

"How long've you lot been set up here?" asked The Doctor.

Jeremiah followed his line of sight, towards the ship and laughed. "Oh, about forty Earth standard years now," he said. "I was still a wee blighter when we made planet-fall. Conceived and born on the ship, I was. Solitude's the only land I've ever known."

The Doctor stopped for a moment, taken aback, before Dolly hoisted him along again.

"I'm sorry, did you say this planet's called Solitude?" he asked.

Jeremiah gave him a confused look. "No, that's the name of our colony – it's one of forty-seven here on New Redemption. Do you mean to tell me that you came to a planet without even knowing its name?"

"I, uh," The Doctor stumbled, "didn't exactly come here by choice."

"Oh, right?" said Jeremiah, as if no further explanation were needed. "Well, if you need any help with your vessel, I'm sure our mechanic, Linfox will be able to help you out."

"Thanks, but I think I'll be alright."

As they made their way through the village, the Doctor felt like all eyes were on him. Most of the villagers waved to Jeremiah and Dolly, but then immediately started staring in disbelief when they noticed the bearded stranger accompanying them. Many of them were whispering, some even closed their doors and shutters.

"Ah, pay no attention to them," said Jeremiah cheerily, "we're not used to getting strangers around these parts, not even from the other colonies."

"Yeah, nothing exciting ever happens here," said Dolly in that way that teens and pre-teens did to make everything sound ten times more dramatic than it actually was.

Jeremiah laughed. "Well, we called this place Solitude for a reason now, didn't we Dolly?"

Night had completely fallen by the time they reached Dolly and Jeremiah's house – a large, wooden two story affair with an expansive veranda. It was easily the biggest in town and The Doctor couldn't help but notice that it sat atop a small hill, overlooking the rest of the village.

"Days are pretty short here, aren't they?" said The Doctor.

"Aye, seventeen hours, replied Jeremiah. Eight hours of day and nine hours of night. On and off like a switch, they are, not much of a dusk or dawn."

"Hmm," The Doctor mused.

They made their way up a footpath that lead them up the little hill and to the house. The Doctor couldn't help but notice the lack of a fence or gate.

"This is a nice house you have here," said The Doctor. "Would I be right to assume that you hold a position of authority in this colony?"

Jeremiah laughed. He really seemed to like doing that. "Well, I don't know about that..."

"Daddy's the mayor!" said Dolly.

"Is that so? Well, I feel privileged. What does that make you? A mayoress?"

"Nope, I'm a princess," she quipped.

"It's really not all that fancy," said Jeremiah, smiling. "My papa was the leader of the first expedition to this planet and he settled this first colony – built this here house with his bare hands. He didn't envision himself as a politician, but election after election, the townsfolk voted him back into office. Mind you, we did start out with only twelve people." He shook his head and laughed. "Would you believe, we have over one-hundred-and-twenty now?

Anyway, after he passed, the townsfolk voted me in to replace him. We still hold elections every two years though and I've always maintained that I will happily step aside, should the people wish it. I'm actually a builder by trade."

Beneath The Doctor's scruffy beard, there was a trace of a smile. It was refreshing, after all of those years spent fighting it the War, seeing the worst atrocities that the universe had to offer, to witness goodness in its most simple and sincere form.

They reached the top of the path and climbed the two steps up onto the veranda. As the wooden planks creaked beneath their weight, the front door opened and a fair and pretty woman in a plain blouse and skirt, with blonde hair tied up in a bun, ran out and scooped Dolly up in her arms.

"Oh, my little Dolly, thank God you're alright!"

"Mum, stop it, you're embarrassing me!" She squirmed her way out of her mother's grip and made a show of rubbing the kiss off of her cheek.

Jeremiah laughed with his hands on his hips and said, "I think our wee Dolly is trying to look big for our Good Samaritan here.

Jeremiah's wife suddenly saw the Doctor standing there and gasped. "Sir, am I right to assume that you're the one we have to thank for saving our little Dolly?"

The Doctor waved a dismissive hand and said, "It was nothing, I was just passing through. I'm just glad that the little one's alright."

The last words of his sentence came out rather gurgled as he was strangled in an iron-gripped bear hug.

"Oh thank you, kind Sir! If there's anything we can do to repay you, please just say the word."

"Well," he grunted, "it'd be nice to be able to breathe again."

The woman cocked her head in confusion, but then exclaimed, "Oh my Lord, sorry!"

She released the Doctor and then gave a shallow but apologetic bow. "Forgive me, Sir. My name's Vanessa, but most people just call me Nessie."

The Doctor suddenly had thoughts of Loch Ness and Zygons, but thought it best not to air them.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Nessie." He looked out at the town, which was now in complete darkness, save for the street lamps. "But I'm afraid I'll have to renege on the dinner invite. It's pretty dark out there, so I'd really best be getting back to my ship."

"Nonsense," said Jeremiah, "even a local lad would get turned around in that darkness. I insist you stay the night."

"That's very kind, but-"

Suddenly, his arm was yanked down by Dolly, who pulled it as if she were ringing a bell. "Oh please stay!" she yelled. "Please, please, please!"

The Doctor looked hopefully at Nessie and said, "I wouldn't want to impose."

"For the man who saved our daughter?" she said. "It's the least we can do. I'll go set another place for dinner."

The Doctor watched as she walked back inside the house, then looked at Jeremiah's content smile, then finally down at Dolly's imploring eyes.

"Well, alright," he said. "But just one night."

Dolly squealed in a range that would be lethal to some species and then dragged him inside at breakneck speed.

What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

The inside of the house was very earthy and homely. It felt well lived-in and had the trappings of a family home. There was a lot of wood and stonework and there was enough space for the family to live comfortably, but not so much as to be excessive.

Dolly rather excitedly gave him a tour of the house, starting with her room, which was much what you'd expect a pre-teen girl's room to look like. She had a pair of twin brothers who were four years younger than her, named Earnest and Eugene. They shared a room, in which they were wrestling and causing quite a raucous as Dolly lead the Doctor past it. Apparently that was a pretty common sight.

The master bedroom was the grandest of the house, but that wasn't saying too much. At the back of the house was Jeremiah's "office", which was essentially just a sitting room/library. They only thing differentiating it from the main sitting room was the presence of some bookshelves and a sturdy desk by the window.

The bathroom was fairly modern, thank goodness, but the kitchen was a touch more simple, with a small dining room adjoining it. This was where they all gathered for supper after what seemed like an eternity of Dolly showing off her toys and drawings.

"You can sit next to me," said Dolly excitedly as she dragged the Doctor to the table.

"OK, well if you insist," said the Doctor uncertainly.

The table had already been covered with bread and fresh vegetables and Nessie was in the process of serving up the thistle stew. It was only now that the Doctor realised that she was sporting the early signs of pregnancy beneath her apron.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Nessie?" he offered.

"Nonsense," she replied with a smile, "you've already done quite enough. You on the other hand," she said, giving Dolly a look that only a mother could give, "you were supposed to help me cook, weren't you?"

Dolly smiled guiltily and said, "I was showing our guest around. Besides," she said, filling her voice with faux trauma, "I'm emotionally exhausted and traumatised, who knows how long it'll be before I'm able to do my chores or go to school again?" She fluttered her eyelashes with unconvincing innocence.

Her mother continued to stare her down and said, "Well, enjoy it for tonight kiddo, because that excuse won't wash come morning."

The Doctor couldn't help but smile. Everything about this scene just seemed so…wholesome.

"Boys!" she suddenly bellowed. "Boys, dinner, now!"

There were distinctive tremors in the floorboards as the twins came bounding down the hall, ramming into one another all the way.

"Settle!" she yelled, and they did. Instantly. "That's better. Now go wash up before you take your seats."

"But we - "

"Don't be giving me that, just do it."

There was a pause and then the boys both said, "Yes, Mum," before retreating quietly up the hall. But it wasn't long before more raucous could be heard coming from the bathroom.

"They seem like quite the handful," said the Doctor.

"They keep me on my toes, that's for sure," said Nessie.

"But don't let that pretty face fool you, she's a force of nature, my Nessie," said Jeremiah as he entered the kitchen, rolling his sleeves up. "She can handle anything those boys can dish up."

Nessie gave her husband a knowing smile. "Don't try that game on me, Jeremiah James Weston, don't be giving me that. I can handle your games too, remember."

Jeremiah raised his hands in a placating manner. "Can't a man give his wife a compliment?"

"Not when he's left me with a yard full of sawdust, he can't."

"Oh," said Jeremiah, "that." He leaned in and whispered to Dolly, "I'm in trouble, if I never see you again, know that I love you."

Dolly laughed and the Doctor gave a smile. This was all such a stark contrast to everything he'd been through over the last few centuries.

"Come on love, I'll make it up to with a kiss," said Jeremiah as he approached his wife, making exaggerated kissing noises.

"Ick," said Dolly, poking a finger in her mouth.

"Ick indeed," said Nessie, trying not to laugh. "We have a guest and a child present, you big lummox, now go and make sure your boys aren't destroying anything. They've been quiet for too long."

"Aye, you're right," said Jeremiah as he let his wife go and left the kitchen. "Boys, put down that chainsaw!" he yelled mockingly as he walked up the hallway.

Nessie rolled her eyes, but smiled despite herself.

* * *

The dinner was simple, but fulfilling. The Doctor couldn't remember the last time he'd had an actual meal. Not food, but a real meal, cooked and served with love and affection.

At first there was the usual thanks and compliments to the cook as dinner was served, then came that awkward period when everybody is too busy filling their bellies to really engage in any significant conversation. But following that there came that usual period when, having satisfied the most fervent part of their hunger, people try to work some polite dialogue into the meal.

"So, tell us a bit about yourself Stranger. For a starters, we have to call you something other than that," laughed Jeremiah.

The Doctor kept his gaze focused down towards his bowl.

"That's all I've got, I'm afraid. No name to speak of; well, none that I have any right in using anymore."

Nessie gave Jeremiah an uncertain look, but her husband just smiled reassuringly and squeezed her hand.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, friend. I have no doubt that you'll find yourself a new name in no time at all."

_No time at all…_

Like that he was back on Toraxus, leading a Time Lord stealth squadron through a temporal minefield, trying to infiltrate the Dalek Time Strategist's Paradox Reactor.

All around him young, fresh-faced Time Lords and Ladies, all straight from the Academy; all in their first incarnations, blinked out of existence as one by one they encountered a mine and with a sudden rend in time, were erased from existence, their residual temporal energy used to recharge the mines in an unending cycle of death and madness…

"Hey, are you OK?"

He suddenly became aware of Dolly tugging at his sleeve and looking up at him with concerned eyes.

"Oh, sorry I was miles away, don't mind me. Actually, I really should be going after all. This dinner really was fantastic though, thank you Nessie. And to all of you," he said as he rose from the table.

"Well, where is your ship parked?" asked Nessie.

"Oh, out in the woods, out by where I found Dolly. I'll be able to find it," he hoped.

"Nonsense," said Jeremiah, "you'll never find your way through those woods after dark. Like I said, It's tricky enough when you're a local."

"Ah, don't you worry about that," said the Doctor, holding up the sonic screwdriver. "This here will help me hone in on my ship."

"And will it help you hone in on all of the wild animals that come out after dark?" said Nessie.

"Yeah, and the ghosts," added Dolly.

"Yeah, the woods are haunted," added Earnest, while Eugene attempted to make a spooky ghost sound with a bread roll shoved in his mouth.

The Doctor gave a sceptical look to Jeremiah and Nessie.

"It's true," said Jeremiah, "folks have been seeing and hearing strange things in those woods for as long as we've been here, especially at night. That's why you really need to stick to the path. It's not just the trees that'll turn you round in there."

The Doctor was dubious, but thought that since this was his first dinner invite in centuries, he'd better at least try to be a good guest.

"Alright," he said, taking his seat once more, "you've convinced me. But I'll have to be leaving at first light."

"Fair enough," said Jeremiah, nodding.

As the night wore on the Doctor was regaled with stories of life in the simple colony; with stories of Jeremiah's childhood in the early days of the settlement; with anecdotes from Dolly that weren't as interesting to an adult as they were a child. But still the Doctor listened, humouring his hosts. Eventually he found himself doing something he never would have expected. He found himself smiling. Not a superficial smile. A proper, honest, heartfelt smile.

Eventually though the candles were nearly burned out and it was time for the little ones to go to bed. Dolly came back out from her room at least a dozen times, only settling down when the Doctor had given a pinky promise that he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to her in the morning. She had hoped that her new friend could sleep in her room, but thankfully for the Doctor, her parents convinced her that wouldn't be a good idea.

Once the children were settled the Doctor tried to help with the cleaning up, but Nessie wouldn't have it, so instead he found himself sitting on the veranda with Jeremiah.

His host was leaning back in an old chair, hands resting on a full belly and a contented smile on his face. The Doctor felt awkward as he took the vacant seat next to him.

"You look happy," said the Doctor.

"Do I? Well, life is good, friend," replied Jeremiah. "I've food for my belly, work for my hands and love for my heart. What else could a man want?"

The Doctor couldn't help but offer a slight smile.

"I envy you Jeremiah," he said, gazing out at the stars above. He could see Castellon VI. He'd taken Leela there once. He frowned. Now it was just a cinder – burned out as fuel for the Dalek hyperion drive. It would take another three million years for it to be noticeable from this vantage point. And as for Leela, well… she'd always been a warrior. And she was, right 'til the end.

"Envy me, lad?" asked Jeremiah, looking right at the Doctor. "Tell me, what is it you've lost? I see it in your eyes."

The Doctor scoffed. "What haven't I lost? My friends, my family, my home…myself." He shook his head. "There's nothing left for me. All I can do is keep moving forward. That's all I've ever done."

Jeremiah chewed on this for a moment, mulling it over. The Doctor wasn't exactly expecting sage council. As nice as Jeremiah was, he could never understand what the Doctor had been through; how his very soul had burned away along with Gallifrey.

"Seems to me," Jeremiah said suddenly, "that moving forward is all well and good, but that's no way to come to terms with what's been lost. Sometimes you gotta stand still for a minute."

The Doctor looked at the man from the corner of his eye, smiling sadly. "Yeah. Well, I'd better turn it, I'll be leaving first thing."

He got out of the chair and the veranda creaked as he headed back inside.

"Course," Jeremiah suddenly called out, "Solitude's as fine a place as any for standing still."

The Doctor stopped and gave another sad smile. "Goodnight Jeremiah."


	3. Chapter 3

White. White as far as he could see.

Ringing. Buzzing. His ears pounding with frequencies not meant for physical beings.

All around him the air was painful, slicing through his skin.

Dimensional barriers had broken down all around him, his physical form dissolved into conceptual mush. He tried to scream, but his lungs were gone; his mouth whisked away on the winds of eternity.

Suddenly there was a crash and he was back in the physical universe, face down in mud and sand. He gasped, rolling onto his back, his beard thick with filth. The ground shook under the force of an explosion and he was showered with debris and sand. Or perhaps it was blood and bone – it all blended together here.

He scrambled to his feet and gazed in horror at the nightmarish hellscape before him as a paradox rift tore through the fabric of local history on the planet Nebraxus. Special Weapons Daleks worked their way through the battlefield, picking off those who escaped the cosmic, metaphysical torment of the rift.

All around him, Time Lords burned and screamed, cannibalised by their own timelines; artron energy exploding in their veins.

He jumped as he felt something clawing at the hem of his coat. Startled, he looked down upon the face of a non-descript Time Lord – one of the rank and file conscripted right out of the academy, never made to be a warrior.

The nameless soldier looked at him with pleading eyes as his face crumpled and cracked under the temporal pressure. A pulse of golden energy rolled out from beneath his armour as his body attempted to regenerate, but the process was distorted and corrupted, cutting off almost immediately and leaving behind a skeletal visage of barely recognisable bone and flesh, mangled together…

The Doctor sat up with a start, breathing heavily, drenched in sweat. He never sweated.

Taking sharp breathes, he looked around the room and remembered where he was. Dolly, Jeremiah…

A nightmare…

Worse. A memory.

He took a moment to calm himself and then sighed, sitting there alone in the dark of the family's sitting room.

He grabbed his belt and waistcoat and slipped them back on, before slipping into his boots.

_I'm sorry Dolly_, he thought. _Thanks anyway_.

He grabbed the front door handle and paused for a moment. No, it was better this way, he knew that.

Turning the handle, he slipped out into the dark of the night.

* * *

"Don't you start," he said as he tapped the sonic screwdriver, trying to get a lock on the TARDIS' location. "I'm not asking you to do brain surgery, just help me find your big sister, that's all. Nothing you haven't done a million times." He smacked it against his palm and finally he got a lock on his ship. "Fantastic," he said, "see? Not so hard. Must have just been a bit of low-level interference."

The sound of gravel crunching beneath his feet sounded like rocks in a blender on such a quiet night. It made him feel a tad anxious, even though he wasn't actually doing anything wrong.

There was some minimal lighting in the town, but as he approached the edge of the woods it grew darker and darker. He began to question the wisdom of his decision.

"OK, maybe they weren't exaggerating," he said to himself as he approached the dense tree line, with barely a sliver of moonlight passing through. "But I've navigated my way through black holes, this'll be a picnic."

Slowly and cautiously, he took the first steps into the forest, his screwdriver not only guiding him to the TARDIS, but also offering some much needed light.

He kept glancing down, trying to keep to the path, but the faint sphere of blue light generated by the screwdriver could only do so much and he soon found himself on uneven ground, strewn with leaves and decaying branches.

_No problem_, he thought, _as long as I follow the sonic, I'll be right. _

Suddenly there was a rustling of branches and the snapping of twigs. He heard and felt something race by.

He spun around, holding his screwdriver outwards.

"Hello?" he said.

Nothing.

He adjusted the screwdriver's settings to scan for life signs, but it only detected a few small signatures – probably just some local critters. He hoped.

He took a few more steps forward before hearing more rustling, followed by a sound he'd hoped to never hear again. A horrible, primal screech of agony and torment. It echoed out from all around him and he spun on the spot, waving his screwdriver, scanning for his adversary.

"The Nightmare Child…" he muttered in disbelief.

He turned this way and that, trying to pinpoint exactly where the sound had come from.

"Show yourself!" he yelled.

He heard more rustling from behind him and turned just in time to see a vision straight out of his worst nightmares.

"No…no, you're all dead," he screamed as a figure clad in bronze armour trundled out from the tress.

"Exterminate!" screeched the Dalek as it fired its energy weapon.

The Doctor dove to the ground, narrowly avoiding being hit. He rolled onto his backside and crawled backwards in the dirt as two more Daleks emerged from the woods. Then two more, followed by another two. On and on they came.

Eyes wide with terror, he scrambled to his feet and bolted through the woods. He realised that he'd become turned around in his panic and had no idea which direction he was heading.

He took shelter behind a tree and cocked his head out, listening for the tell-tale signs of approaching Daleks. They were lethal, but they certainly weren't stealthy. Miraculously though, it sounded as though he'd lost them.

Taking the reprieve, he held his screwdriver up to get a lock on the TARDIS again, but as the glow of the device swept up, he jumped when it illuminated a face just in front of his own.

He gave a yell of surprise and slipped away from the tree, putting distance between himself and the figure. Holding the screwdriver out, he could see that it was a young man; practically a boy. He had a mop of brown hair and brown eyes that conveyed great intelligence for someone so young. He wore a yellow tunic with a blue star fixed to its red pocket.

"Adric…?" the Doctor said, stunned in disbelief. "That's not possible."

"No, it's not," said the boy. "Because I'm dead, aren't I? Dead because you let me die."

The Doctor's arm sagged a little, lowering the light from the screwdriver briefly.

"What? No, I didn't…it wasn't like that."

"Wasn't it?" said a new voice, feminine with a northern English accent. Suddenly the owner of the voice came into view – a blonde girl who would barely have been out of her teens. "You tend to let a lot of your friends die, don't ya?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No... Lucie? What's going on?" He looked around the forest. "What is this?"

"I don't think he does it intentionally," said a woman with dark, wavy hair and dressed in ancient Trojan garb.

"Katarina," muttered the Doctor.

"I just think he doesn't give much thought to us mortals," she continued. "What's a human life to a god?"

The Doctor backed up to another tree. "That's not what it was like, you have to believe me. I-I would have saved you all if I could."

"Even me, Grandfather?" He saw his granddaughter Susan, looking as old as she had been when he'd last seen her, in the early days of the war. "You were happy to let me go off and fight in the war, weren't you?"

The Doctor frowned a little. "That's not true."

"You'd already taken my son from me, so I suppose it didn't matter whether I lived or died," she said.

The Doctor was hit with a painful memory of his great-grandson, Alex.

"You were happy to let all of us go to war in your stead, weren't you?" This time it was an elegant looking woman with golden hair and opulent ceremonial robes.

"Romana," he gasped at the sight of his former companion and long-time president of Gallifrey. But she didn't look as she had at the end of her life, she was still in the guise that he'd known her best.

"The Doctor would never sully his hands with such things," she continued, "but he's more than happy to let others do the dirty work for him. Tell me Doctor, how many died due to your inaction?"

"Listen, please…" he started, but he was cut off.

"Oh be careful what you wish for," said a woman with wavy, fiery hair, "because when he does decide to take action, Lord help those who get in his way. And pray for those who try to stand by his side."

This was the most-recent face, one that was still fresh in his mind. She was a young woman whom he'd only met a few weeks earlier, right before he'd resolved to end the war for good.

"Cinder, I never wanted this for you. For any of you! You have to believe me!" He was becoming hysterical as they all began to move in closer, surrounding him.

"I tried to save you, all of you!"

He fell to the ground, looking up in terror as they swamped him, all yelling at him; deriding him for his failure. Even more had joined the crowd now. Some he recognised, others were faceless; anonymous beings whom he had left by the wayside in his quest to 'save the universe'. Among them were several small Gallifreyan children.

"Exterminate! Exterminate!"

The Daleks had found him, they were approaching the crowd of lost souls.

"No!" He screamed, eyes growing wide. "No, leave them alone!"

He tried to get up, tried to save his friends, but they pinned him down, tormenting him as one by one they fell to the Daleks, backs arching as they screamed, their lifeless bodies collapsing on top of him. With each and every one that fell, the last thing he saw in their eyes was hatred. Pure hatred of him, of the man who had failed them.

More and more bodies fell on him until he couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't breathe, he was suffocating under a mound of those whom he couldn't save.

"No! No! Please, I'm sorry!" he screamed as the ground gave way beneath him and he fell, spiralling into a starless abyss.

"I'm sorry!" he screamed again, his words drifting into nothingness. "I'm sorry!"

Suddenly he felt a hand grip his shoulder, shaking him.

"Wake up!"

His eyes sprung open and he could see grass in the faint light.

He gasped, flipping over onto his back and sitting up.

"No, I'm sorry, you have to believe me!" he screamed, cowering away from the new figure. This one was practically a child – a young girl.

"It's OK, it's just the woods," she said, gripping his shoulder carefully.

He flinched and curled up into a little ball. "I'm sorry, I tried to save you! I tried to save all of you!"

"It's OK mister, it's me, Dolly. Everything's alright, I promise."

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, "I'm sorry…"

Suddenly realisation hit him. "D-Dolly?"

He chanced a look up and could see the young girl's face glowing in the light of her lantern.

"Dolly," he said as his thoughts settled down. "What…what's going on?"

She smiled warmly and offered a hand, which he accepted gingerly.

"It's the woods," she said, as she helped him to his feet, "they're haunted. People see all kinds of nightmarish things here. For some it's the tragedies of their past, for others, it's their fears of the future. And for some…well, let's just say that in my grandpa's day, a lot of people were driven to madness in these woods. That's why you _really_ have to stick to the path. We did try to tell you."

The Doctor laughed gently. "Yeah," he said, wiping a stray tear with the back of his hand, "I suppose you did." He swallowed hard, "Dolly, I-"

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone and I won't ask about what you saw." She smiled, her face cast in an angelic glow by the artificial light. "You're just lucky I heard you sneak out. Now come on, the path's this way, I'll take you home. Surely you've had enough of these woods for one night." With that, she turned on her heel and started heading away from him.

He looked on at the young girl as her orb of light grew more distant, then he turned back to look at the oblique void of the woods behind him.

"Come on, slowpoke!" She yelled, her lamplight only dimly still in view. "I'm not going to wait for you all night, you can have your breakdown back home where it's warm."

The Doctor couldn't help but laugh at the girl. In another life he could see himself travelling with someone like her.

He took a deep breath and started forward, one foot in front of the other.

"Coming!"

* * *

The next morning, The Doctor stood on the veranda watching the sunrise. Dolly had gone straight to bed the night before without a word, surely exhausted after her midnight adventure, but he hadn't slept a wink. Instead, he'd been thinking. A lot.

Thinking about where he'd been…

Thinking about where he was going…

And most importantly, thinking about where he was.

"Ah, early riser, I see!" said Jeremiah, joining the Doctor. "Top of the morning to you."

A small smile appeared beneath the Doctor's beard.

"Jeremiah."

"So, wanted to get going first thing, eh? I must confess, I think our wee Dolly will be a tad disappointed that you didn't wait to say goodbye."

The Doctor lowered his head slightly, frowning.

"Actually…I think I might stick around for a bit. You know, just for a little while so I can sort a few things out. If that's OK with you, of course," he added quickly.

"That a fact?" said Jeremiah, his face screwed up into his trademark smile. "Well, I'd best go tell my love to set another place for breakfast."

He turned back towards the doorway, "I know a certain young lady who'll be happy to hear the good news."

The Doctor smiled softly. "Yeah…"

He didn't know who he was or where he was going. Not yet anyway. Truth was, he didn't know how long it would take him to find those answers, or if he ever would at all. But as he stood there, watching the golden sunlight spread across the woods, casting a hopeful glow over what had so terrified him the night before, he couldn't help but think that there were worse places to pause and rest for a while.


End file.
